


Narrow is the Way

by junuve



Series: We Foolish Vessels [10]
Category: Nier Gestalt | Nier, Nier Gestalt | Nier Replicant | Nier (Video Games)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Platonic Cuddling, Slow Dancing, takes place in the second half of the game, the general unease of being stuck at a party you don't want to attend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:35:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22597933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junuve/pseuds/junuve
Summary: There’s a festival in the village, and Kaine and Emil aren’t invited.Nier and Weiss try to comfort one another as the village celebration relentlessly reminds them of a bright, joyous world… one in which they and their friends have no place.(Nier and Weiss POV of the Grimoire Nier short story Strait is the Gate. This features the NieR:Gestalt versions of the characters. It’s not necessary to read the short story in order to enjoy the fic, but if you haven’t, I highly recommend checking out the official short story! This fic takes place in the second half of the game, of course.)
Relationships: Grimoire Weiss & Nier, Grimoire Weiss/Nier
Series: We Foolish Vessels [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1543177
Comments: 7
Kudos: 20





	Narrow is the Way

The sky flushed pink as the sun flirted with the horizon. It dared to dip its disk behind the distant mountain ranges before ultimately deciding to never disappear from sight and crawl back to the crown of the heavens again.

This was their dawn. Or something like it.

Nier arose with the sun, and was already bugging the sleepy guards at the gates to let him through. Shying away from his floating book companion, the guards acquiesced, curiously peering in the two’s wake in hopes to catch a glimpse of the mysterious saviors of the village beyond - the flying skeleton boy and the wild shade woman.

Nier just called them friends.

Kainé was re-braiding her hair by a smoldering fire as he strode up. Emil’s back was to them, hunched over and poking absently at the ashes with a stick. He jerked up when he heard someone approach and screwed his head around backwards to look for the source.

When he saw Nier he elicited a chipper squeak, waving excitedly at him, which required twisting his skeleton in yet more concerning directions.

“Good morning!” he chimed.

Nier nodded at him, kindly smiling despite how bizarre the inverted bones were.

“Morning.”

Kainé hadn’t budged, and flicked a twig she pulled from her hair into the dead coals at her feet. Her fingers weren’t gloved for once, each slender and pale as they worked through her hair.

Finally, she registered Nier’s presence, offering a calm nod his way as Weiss and Emil went through their polite greetings in the background.

“What’s up?” she asked Nier.

“So, um…” Nier paused, fidgeting with the straps on his arm guards for a beat. “There’s gonna be a festival later today,” he said.

From the look on his face, Kainé knew all she needed to: he really _really_ didn’t want to go, and was itching for an excuse.

Kainé was at the end of the braid, twisting a tie around it.

“You’ll feel better when the festival starts,” she said with a shrug.

Nier stared at her, painfully doleful.

He didn’t believe for a second she wanted him to go, especially seeing as she’d have to sit around outside with Emil.

There had to be something going on, but Nier was left wondering, as usual.

Emil had picked up on the tense mood, and shifted uncomfortably before he tried to cheer Nier up.

“A festival! How nice!” He clasped his hands. “You know, it’s good to have a breather every once in a while.”

“But…” Nier went to protest before he was cut short.

“You’d be wise to listen to Emil. You need to relax. You look dreadful,” Weiss kept going, “besides, Popola is doing this largely for _you_. Do not forget this.”

Nier didn’t appreciate Weiss stating that aloud, especially with Kainé and Emil standing there. He didn’t need a damn party. He needed—

Nier exhaled sharply, biting back a retort. He turned to the others.

“Alright, if I’m going, then _everyone_ is,” his steely resolve built as he spoke, “we’re all friends, so we’re going to go to the festival _together_. I’ll talk to Popola. You’ve done much. The village owes it to you guys t—”

“Not interested.”

Kainé’s coldness took Nier off-guard, and his spark died as soon as it came.

Weiss sighed tersely, turning away from them all. Emil moved between Kainé and Nier, stumbling over himself.

“Um, uh… I’m not really good with festivals during bedtime! I just fall asleep right in the middle of it all!” he did his utmost to sell this lame excuse.

He deflated as he saw Nier’s brow pin upward in dismay, while Weiss tilted behind him, discomforted by the whole ordeal.

“Just enjoy yourselves, alright?” Emil urged them, voice small.

Nier nodded.

He couldn’t believe this.

“I see,” he said, and stalked away.

Weiss lingered a moment, giving Emil a strangely gracious dip before he joined Nier.

Emil kneaded his bony hands as he watched the man lope toward the gate. Kainé had already turned away herself, glaring into the dead fire pit.

* * *

As the rest period of the eternal day came upon the valley, the preparations for the festival hit a fever pitch. Before long, the whole village had poured out of their domiciles and shops and congregated in town square.

With a brief but earnest speech, Devola kicked off the celebrations, and was met with a round of applause which dissolved into a lively bustle.

The tavern served as the hub of activity, out of which the catering and drinks flowed to a crowd eager to steal a sliver of bliss from such a dark age.

Devola had thus far resisted Nier’s ploys for him to help, and Popola had all but denied his requests to keep watch.

The twins were dead set on him not lifting a finger this day, and it was driving him up the wall. Not even the needy townsfolk would send him off.

Nier was stuck, pacing around the outskirts of town.

“I can’t believe they wouldn’t come,” Nier kept on fuming about it to Weiss.

The Grimoire tilted to follow Nier as he stalked to and fro.

“They gotta know I’m not gonna be happy without—”

“Quit pinning your happiness on others!” Weiss snapped finally.

Nier shot Weiss a dirty look. “That’s not what I’m doing.”

“Oh, yes! RIGHT. How silly of me,” Weiss rescinded his statement, oozing with irk, “what you _have_ been doing for the past hour is pace around here and lament to me about it.”

“This isn’t right!” Nier gestured at Weiss, agitated. “They’re probably just out there because of the whole _being forbidden_ thing. They don’t want to make a scene, or be judged or… or…” the man grunted in frustration, his words failing him.

Nier’s mouth was pressed thin, and his eye glared from beneath his mask. “I hate it when things aren’t right.”

“Unfortunately for us,” Weiss explained, “this is an issue with nuance, rife with twists and tangles. It is not an issue which we can _kill_.”

“It’s crap!”

“ _Bullshit_ , technically,” Weiss corrected.

Nier snorted at that.

Weiss floated over his shoulder to his front, bobbing slightly.

“Perhaps we should do something to pass the time? Maybe a round of alcoholic beverages is in order!” he tried to lift the mood.

The act was more obvious than ever.

“You don’t have to be so chipper for me all the time,” Nier told him point blank.

Weiss took pause, gazing at Nier long enough to make him flinch.

Weiss didn’t say anything.

He just _stared._

And that made Nier feel like shit.

“…urgh, uh… I meant like…”

“Very well,” was Weiss’ cool response.

How was it possible for Nier to feel even _worse_?

“Weiss, I didn’t mean—”

The Grimoire rounded back on him. “I know where you’re coming from.”

“You do…?” Nier said cautiously.

“Of course I do. But you don’t know where _I’m_ coming from, do you?” Weiss was sharp.

“…no?” Nier felt like every answer he could give would be wrong.

“You’re going to hurt yourself!” Weiss ruffled his pages. “You need to stop. If you don’t… you could _snap!_ I’m worried,” he said, but corrected himself, “no no… not worried. _Frightened._ ”

Nier took a moment to reflect on that. He nodded, putting his mind to it. “I’ll calm down.”

“Thank you,” Weiss spoke these words that ever eluded his vocabulary.

Nier looked over his shoulder to the gate, and decided to cut that habit out immediately. It only made him angrier.

Weiss was right. There really wasn’t anything he could do. He was winding himself up over nothing.

…right?

Nier shook his head, focusing on Weiss. “…so… what _do_ we do?”

It had been a long time since he’d even thought about relaxing.

“Like I said: drink.”

“I don’t wanna get drunk, Weiss,” Nier responded, “besides, you got in a fight last time you had anything.”

“I meant that _you_ would drink, but I see your point,” Weiss admitted, still a bit awkward about his past gaff.

“Well, there’s dancing… music… food… ah, what else do humans like to do for recreation?” the Grimoire tried to rattle all the items off, “oh, I heard there would be exploding chemicals later.”

Nier raised a brow. “Fireworks?”

“Yes, those little oddities.”

Fireworks were a common wonder where Nier came from. Where was Weiss from that didn’t have them, he wondered…

“Let’s just go sit down while we decide,” Nier spoke up, “my feet are killin’ me.”

“Must be all that pacing, mmm?” Weiss jabbed.

Nier shook his head in response.

They found shelter from the worst of the celebration at a table set up not far from the bar’s entrance.

Nier sat with his back toward the wall.

His glowering, masked face, hunched musculature, and the sword laid against the table made him one hundred percent unapproachable. The unholy flying book beside him didn’t hurt the act, either.

From there he watched the celebration, the dancing and the clapping, the flirting and the singing. Devola was at the nucleus of it all, ordering the chaotic energy with a broad smile on her face.

At least someone was having a good time.

She started a line dance around the town square fountain. It was a little amusing, Nier admitted, to see the stoic men and women he often accepted work from dancing, rosy-cheeked and oft with tears in their eyes from laughing.

It wasn’t often these days they could cut loose.

All around them suspiciously long furrows marked the stone masonry, and great cracks spidered across the once even pathways. They’d done their best to wipe away the assault of the shades, but it was still there in the back of everyone’s mind.

If something happens once, it can happen again.

Watching all the action made Nier feel exhausted, or maybe he was finally sitting long enough for weariness to catch up. Either way he didn’t like this.

The smell of fresh-cooked food filled the square, but a waft of it fanned directly into Nier’s nose as if he were right in the kitchen. He turned, and found a bowl levitate itself down before him, accompanied by a tired drone.

“…eat something.”

Weiss nudged a bowl of food his way.

Nier gave him a bothered once-over. “Who are you? My mom?”

Weiss nudged it nearer, looking up at him expectantly.

“You haven’t eaten anything. Humans are prone to irritability when they are so famished.”

Nier couldn’t scowl down at Weiss, not when he was so painfully obvious about his concern.

Nier turned his eye to the bowl. The stir fry within looked pretty damn good, honestly. But even _ambrosia_ wouldn’t kindle Nier’s appetite at this point.

“Thanks, but I think I might get sick…” Nier told him, “uh… sorry. Looks good,” he added sheepishly.

Weiss didn’t sound pleased, but accepted the excuse without any more fuss.

“This is probably the best rendition of that _Song of the Ancients_ tune, yes?” the Grimoire tried to bring up something positive.

“Huh?” Nier roused. “Oh, yeah.”

Weiss’ pitch rose with his curiosity, “I wonder if she knows any other songs.”

“Devola?”

“I’ve only ever heard her play the one.”

“I’m sure she sings more,” Nier said, “that’s just her favorite one or something.”

“I doubt that it’s her favorite,” Weiss disagreed, “musicians rarely favor their most requested pieces.”

“How do you know?”

The question made the Grimoire ponder a moment more than usual. “Well, I’m a little bit of a connoisseur of music myself.”

Nier turned his gaze to Weiss. “…really?”

“Well, it’s…” Weiss searched for how to explain, “it’s calming and exciting, music. Such a form of art has great power, if you think about it.”

“Power, huh?” Nier nodded knowingly.

“Like a steady flow eroding a proud mountain…”

Nier considered how eloquently the book had spoken. “Getting a little poetic there, Weiss.”

“Oh, that? I’m sure I heard those words somewhere else before… before—” Weiss stopped himself, “well, _somewhere_.”

Nier always wondered when the book spoke of that vast, nebulous _before_. How much did he recall, after all these years? And more importantly, why did he never talk about it?

Maybe Weiss really was still amnesic, but…

“Can you, uh, make music, Weiss?” Nier asked.

The Grimoire sighed yearningly, “sadly, of my many talents, this is not one. I simply never was afforded the luxury of learning an instrument or lifting my voice.”

Nier jerked his head back. “I’ve heard ya sing!”

“Really?” Weiss tilted his cover to face the man more directly, glinting.

“Yeah,” Nier was certain he had, but as he searched for examples, all he could remember was some fuzzy, incoherent thing. “Can’t place where, but… hell, maybe I dreamed that,” he admitted aloud, and realizing what he’d said, flushed a bit.

That amused Weiss.

“Ah… you must mean my intoning of spells,” he clarified, knowing full well what Nier recalled.

Weiss knew that song of healing intimately.

“It’s hardly music.”

“I think it is!” Nier insisted, “you’re raising your voice and it sounds good.”

Weiss chuckled.

That sound alone was more pleasing than the music that played… to Nier, at least.

“Ah, then a good bit of yelling is the same as singing to you, is it?” the book teased him.

“Well, you’re better than me,” Nier pointed out, “I never even thought to try to learn music.”

“Would you like to, one day?” Weiss inquired, now curious himself.

Nier considered that only a moment before shrugging. “I dunno. Maybe. But it’s probably too late for me.”

Weiss hummed disapprovingly. “Don’t say such a thing. We could learn together one day. You know… after.”

Weiss didn’t say after _what_ , but Nier understood.

He grabbed the bowl of food Weiss had brought over and poked it around, testing a bite. The meat was perfectly seasoned, and juicy too. In turn, the fruits and vegetables were lightly grilled, giving a base and zest to the meal.

He’d had so much well-cooked, tasty food these past five years.

It was hard to swallow the bite.

Nier inclined his ear to the melody, just to get his mind onto something—anything—else. He finally choked the food down, speaking up with a thinner voice than he wanted, “it is pretty nice. The music.”

Weiss concurred softly, settling beside him, close enough to brush his arm with his binding.

“Maybe Kainé is hungry,” Weiss wondered.

Nier snapped to, sitting up. “Yeah, she probably is! We better get her something,” the man sounded brighter now that he had a goal.

Weiss thought aloud, “I always get wroth when I require nourishment. I’m sure it’s similar for her. It would explain her moods.”

“You’re saying you and Kainé got something in common?” Nier attempted to joke around, “now I’ve heard everything.”

With a disgusted cough the Grimoire lifted off the table. “Come along…” he said, and Nier followed.

Weiss led him to where he’d gotten the first bowl, through busy clots of people banded together for a merry time. They stepped into the tavern, and the place was brimming with life. A smoky sweetness was on the air, and the barkeep was alive, sweating horribly, yet all the while chortling as she labored and ordered her helpers about.

Nier made an attempt to purchase another bowl. She insisted Nier just take it. He was their foremost protector after all.

“You’ve earned it!” She raised an arm as if to toast him.

Several of the men and women clinging to the counter agreed heartily.

He’d ‘earned it’, had he?

Nier ground his teeth, taking the gift.

She didn’t say anything else to Nier after the glare sent her way. Weiss thanked her and followed Nier out, trying to not hear the comments that hounded their steps.

They navigated out of the crowd, standing in the clear.

“Does Emil eat?” Nier’s voice was low, but worried. He was just realizing he might be a meal short.

Nier wanted to kick himself for being so inconsiderate.

“I’ll get him some magic,” Weiss said.

“How do you even do that?” Nier asked.

The book tipped to a side. “I have my ways.”

Well, of course Nier wasn’t going to get a straight answer. He rolled his eye and carried along, navigating the back allies out toward the gates.

He often cast glances behind him, checking for snatches of maroon or white and black. They got to the gates without incident. It seemed Nier had managed to evade the twins.

For now…

When the gate opened, Kainé was already standing before it, ready to strike.

Nier thought she was supposed to guard what tried to come in, not out…?

She dropped her stance when she saw that it was him, returning to lounging in the grass, leaned against a ruin of stone.

Kainé’s expression wavered between unreadable and aggressive—as usual. It was the tense grip on her sword that made Nier think twice.

Still, Nier strode up to her and crouched down onto her level.

“Uh, thanks for keeping watch,” he spoke with no ease, “I thought you might be hungry, so…” he put the bowl out for her to grab.

Kainé stared down at the bowl, her features tweaking as she inspected it.

“It’s boar meat, and some other stuff,” Nier kept talking, unsure, “it’s pretty good… uh, I had some.”

Her eyes locked with his, and the intensity forced him to glance away.

“Sorry, it might’ve gotten cold…”

Nier waited another painful moment before Weiss spoke up, noting Emil’s already sleeping form.

“Looks like we’re a bit late. The boy is fast asleep.”

Weiss hovered over him, and then started to fuss over the covers, situating them more precisely over the boy’s form.

He was tucking him in, at least as best as a book could.

Kainé’s face softened at that gesture. So did Nier’s.

She remembered herself and turned back to the bowl Nier held out.

Kainé opened and closed her mouth many times. Finally she clamped it shut, brow wrinkling, and snatched the bowl from his hands, immediately digging in.

Nier was a little shocked, having to catch himself before he fell back.

He watched as Kainé chewed viciously, snapping up each bite.

Nier registered enjoyment on her end, and cracked a smile at the display.

“Damn, I shoulda’ brought you something sooner.”

Kainé stopped eating at that remark, and tried to speak, swallowing hastily to get a word out.

Just as she cleared her throat, a villager’s voice called out for Nier.

“Nier! There you are!” A girl peered through the slit in the gate. “Devola needs you. It’s urgent.”

“Something’s wrong?!” Nier asked the girl, alarm spreading, but she had already disappeared back inside.

“Shit…” Nier staggered to his feet, wincing as his knees cracked.

Kainé watched him closely.

“I guess I gotta check it out,” he said with no reservation of remorse, “so, uh… I’ll see you.”

Weiss floated back to Nier’s side, accompanying him to the gates once more.

Nier turned around to give a half-hearted wave before he slipped through and out of sight. The gates clattered shut with a hollow sound.

The last thing he saw was Kainé’s hopeless face.

She hadn’t said what she wanted to, had she? Nier curled his hands into fists, resisting the urge to swing the full edge of the Beastlord into that damn gate.

Weiss bristled with dark magic.

“Calm down, I’m begging you,” the Grimoire pleaded.

“Huh?” Nier was broken out of the rage.

“You’re making it quite difficult to keep this all locked down,” Weiss hinted at how his blood magic boiled.

Nier paled.

“Got it. Won’t happen again.”

The villager who had called him was nowhere to be seen, but a flash of maroon pushed all thoughts from Nier’s mind.

Popola traveled down the trail leading from the central fountain, her hands clasped in front.

She stepped up to him, her lips pursed as she inclined her face toward his, scanning him.

Nier’s focus darted around, beyond her, to the edges of the valley as he searched—no, _hoped_ —to find something amiss.

“That girl said it was urgent,” Nier spoke, “what’s going on?”

“Forgive me, I wanted to catch you before you—” she grimaced, dragging the words out, “I thought you were leaving…”

Nier’s vigilance dropped. He couldn’t withhold a glower.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“No. I’m not—it’s just…” Nier bit his tongue. “I don’t like false alarms.”

“I knew I should have gone myself.” Popola shrunk away. “I didn’t mean to alarm you.”

“Sure.”

He tried desperately to understand where Popola was coming from. She really did mean the best with this festival.

…right?

“But, actually,” she started up again, “I needed to tell you something.”

Weiss needled her, “well, what is it? Don’t be coy. Out with it!”

“In private.” She stared at Weiss pointedly. He drifted backwards, affronted by the implication.

“It’s OK, Weiss,” Nier told him, “it’s just Popola.”

The book jerked away from him in turn, offended greatly.

“Just tell me to go away, then!” and with that hurt remark, Weiss swung away, departing for town square.

“Oh… I didn’t mean to be rude. He just cuts in so much, you know,” Popola mentioned bashfully, “I wanted to speak to you. Specifically.”

Nier shrugged. “I get it.”

“Come,” she beckoned him as she turned, walking to the fountain’s edge. She sat down on one of the stone benches, leaving much room for Nier to rest beside her.

Popola angled to face him as he sat down, her hands folded upon her lap.

“So, what is it?” Nier leaned against the fountain.

She fixed him with an expression that had long moved past broken.

It was calm as it was _bleak_.

“I want to apologize to you,” she stated.

Nier was unprepared for this. “Apologize?”

“This,” she gestured to the village around them, to the revelry, “this isn’t going how I planned…”

Nier drummed his fingers against the cold stone rim of the fountain.

“I’m sorry that _they_ can’t be here. I did my best, but…” she didn’t dare to make eye contact, “it’s hard to change people’s minds. Really hard.”

Nier listed to a side, a pang sapping the breath from his lungs. He was hit by a stray memory of children laughing and running circles around, gilding the fountain.

That was years ago.

She finally dared to look him in the eye. “I know that their exclusion has completely ruined this for you.”

Popola placed her hand on his, gently tightening her grip. The clouds were dappled in the sun’s lowering light. Her hair caught the rays, a bright ruby hemmed by gold. 

Nier didn’t know what to do.

“I’ve wanted to do something like this festival for quite some time… to thank you—to thank everyone. And with the shades and the disease and the—” she exhaled sharply, voice growing so impossibly soft, “I feel like we’re running out of time.”

Popola shook her head, clearing her eyes.

“That was kinda depressing to say out loud, wasn’t it?” the question was oddly genuine.

“It was,” Nier didn’t lie, “but that’s your job.”

She bit her lip.

“Thanks, Popola,” Nier spoke, “I don’t think I’m going to join in, but… I’ll try to relax or something. Not let your work go to waste. I heard you even hired extra guards to keep me off duty.”

Popola opened her mouth, hesitating to put this into words, “y-yeah. I wanted to make sure you had a peaceful day.”

The day had been anything but…

Nier took in a deep breath, sitting up straight. “I guess I’m gonna go try to take it easy.”

Popola’s eyes gleamed out from under her meticulously kept bangs.

“Thank you.”

Popola took her leave and returned to the festival’s epicenter. Nier bid her goodbye, turning his focus to other things. He had a book to find.

He stumbled around through the grass, calling for Weiss.

For a second, Nier considered if Weiss had gone home to his shelf, but maybe he’d gone back to listen to the music.

Nier stopped and centered himself, closing his eye and searching with a force unseen for magic which echoed back to him.

Immediately Nier was drowning in a deluge of the Grimoire’s densely flowing darkness, and he coughed from instinct as the aura entombed him.

Weiss was… above him?

“So you do know how to find me,” Weiss spoke, his voice close at hand.

Nier’s eye flew open, and the Grimoire burst out of the tree overhead in a flurry of falling leaves.

“Wait, you—”

“Ah, yes. I heard the whole thing. It was quite boring and sappy,” Weiss commented, “although, I do not know what I was expecting. You are not one for wiles.”

Nier hesitated. “Uh, thanks?”

“You’re welcome.”

The two returned to the village’s main avenue, walking the festival square. They kept to themselves, wall flowers maybe, but Nier just really didn’t have the heart for any of this gaiety. He could sense that Weiss didn’t either, despite the stabs at small talk he continued to take.

Devola’s voice showed no signs of wear since earlier. In fact, she sang louder… her spirit bolstered by spirits, perhaps.

Nier tried to numb himself. Focus on sight, smell, and sound.

To focus on the pretty things…

His gaze lingered on his friend. Weiss was turning from silver to bronze in the golden light.

When their world got as dark as it ever could, escaping the sun as it hid behind the mountains to the west, the time came to launch the fireworks.

The Grimoire had to clasp his covers around one of Nier’s harness straps and practically drag him to a viewing area. Nier didn’t care much to watch, but in a way he was thankful someone was pushing him to.

When the first shots fired, Weiss jumped toward Nier, frightened by the shrieks the fireworks made as they spiraled above.

He peeked out, watching their shimmering trails of color with a wild curiosity.

This was enough to make the whole thing worth it.

The sky was soon awash with light as the fireworks scattered their colors over the village. Each volley left the sweet smoke of gunpowder in the air.

After Weiss had grown accustomed to the pattern and noises of the fireworks, he started to complain about them. He commented on how these things were so much effort only to be used up in a flash… and yet not once did he look away from the display, eager to absorb every second.

“How ingenious! And such a monumental waste of resources, might I add. Also very noisy.”

Nier began to watch the way the different types of firework painted Weiss’ silver lines with their light.

“The colors are so rich… I wonder how they do it.”

Nier bet Kainé and Emil could see the fireworks too. He wondered if they were watching, or if they’d given up and left. He wouldn’t blame them for that. Not too much.

Nier turned his eye toward the ground.

Maybe this was Emil’s first time seeing them. It probably was… and Kainé’s too, now that he thought.

They were _both_ so young.

There it was. The image of gates slamming shut, obscuring a faraway face. This moment asserted itself in the fore of his mind.

The grass around Nier flashed with brilliant colors, cessations bringing back the twilight.

…had Yonah ever seen fireworks?

“I never expected them to smell so much. It’s an oddly pleasant odor, though. Don’t you agree?”

No answer.

Weiss was getting used to speaking to himself. That was better than saying nothing at all.

...right?

The show concluded with a flourish, Nier watching it in flashes on the soil and stones encompassing. As soon as it was over, Weiss started carrying on about how ridiculous the whole affair was.

“Exciting, though, wasn’t it?” again he prompted a response.

Nothing.

He stared at Nier’s motionless form, at how the strong man curled in on himself, head down and obscured behind sheets of silver hair.

Weiss seemed so uncertain, his question awkward, “…something the matter?”

“Nah,” Nier lifted his head, his tone unconvincing, “they just hurt to look at.”

Weiss moved over and nudged him. “That’s no good. You should have said something.”

“Why? I liked listening to you,” Nier told him. He hadn’t heard much of what Weiss had said, but the constant stream was sometimes… comforting, in its own way.

Weiss was always there. Had always been…

…for five long years.

It just hit Nier, but the fact was, if anyone here needed a breather, it was Weiss. The old book had been covering just as much ground as he had, looking for clues about the Shadowlord.

It meant a lot to Nier, but sometimes he worried. Even while he slept, Weiss would work. He knew sleep was technically optional for him, but the Grimoire wasn’t as ironclad as he wished to believe.

Nier gazed out over the celebration, toward the multitude of villagers as they gathered in their little groups.

A few passerby gave him friendly invitations, which he declined to no one’s surprise. Soon, the crowds that had witnessed the show had filtered back into the town square for one last hurrah: a dance.

Nier and Weiss wandered around, neither knowing what to do, and too fatigued to figure it out. They took to sitting along the sidelines of the event by rote, under an overhang tucked into a quiet corner of the square.

The band that accompanied Devola reverberated through the stones surrounding them. Strings, drums, and even a defiant woodwind resounded, but most familiar of all was Devola’s lute, one Nier could pick out of a full ensemble.

Weiss was watching the dancing couples with a fixation that even Nier could notice.

“Ah, none of these fools know how to dance!” Weiss fussed, maybe to Nier… maybe to no one in particular. “I mean, look at those fumbles. They do not merely have two left feet, they have eleven!”

Nier smirked at the antics.

And then he got to thinking.

Maybe he could do something during this festival that he _didn’t_ hate?

Sure, it wasn’t going to be like having the whole group together, but hell… it would be something special… something _good_ for a change.

Nier unceremoniously got up and left, not saying a word to Weiss.

He strolled down the town square, taking his time, looking over his shoulder back towards the Grimoire.

Nier staged himself just before an alley exit, waiting.

Weiss paused his grouch-fest as he realized Nier had gone, shooting up and angling around, searching for the man.

Like a compass finding its way to north, the book singled Nier out of the crowd.

Casually, Nier slipped into the alley, making his way toward the village docks.

Weiss barreled after him, skimming over the crowds as a stone. He peeled into the alley, taking pause to collect himself.

“Nier?! Where are you?” he called out, “i-if you wish to be left alone, just say so!”

Weiss came to the end of the alley where it opened up into the docks. He heard the water-wheel as it worked solemnly in the twilight, and the lap of the lake water against the piers. The song of the ancients filled the silence with its warmth. But Nier he could not hear.

Weiss called out again, “…Nier?”

The man showed himself as he stepped out from behind a wall of crates. He had checked that they were close enough still to hear the music, but far enough away so as to not be in the eye of the people. Not even a guard watched this section of town.

“There you are!” Weiss came up to him.

They stood within a stretch of loading area unused amidst the many barrels and boxes and coils of ropes laid around. It was pretty spacious, Nier thought.

This would do.

Weiss was giving him a puzzled once-over. “Why are you out here?”

Nier shrugged. “Just getting away from stuff.”

“…what are you doing?” Weiss repeated, suspicions growing.

Nier lifted his arms, the motion strangely premeditated… maybe a little more graceful than usual.

Nier offered them to Weiss.

“Give me your hands.”

“What…?” Weiss’ confusion only grew. “I don’t have those…”

“You know what I mean.” Nier waited.

Weiss stilled as he thought.

“Oh,” he realized, rephrasing, “the _weapons_ …”

Nier hated when he called his hands that.

“Why do you need the—?”

“Just trust me, Weiss.”

Weiss made a noise, disgruntled, but nonetheless produced two dark hands of a size befitting being held by a normal human. He stretched them forth, tepidly, and Nier took hold, lacing his fingers through the claws as he raised them up.

“Now,” Nier asked Weiss, “teach me how to dance.”

Weiss dispelled his magic and bucked backwards. “My word! You’ve lost your mind! I don’t know how to dance! I’m a book!”

Nier frowned. “…a book?”

“A—a Grimoire… I—I am Grimoire Weiss!” he desperately scrambled for a shred of composure, “and I do not _dance_.”

“You sure were critiquing the couples out there hard for a guy that doesn’t dance,” Nier pointed out, “you had lots of very specific things to say about their footwork. I couldn’t keep up with half of what you were going on about.”

Weiss sounded grieved, but a touch impressed, “…you were paying attention?”

“Maybe.”

Weiss couldn’t deny it. Not really. But… he stared Nier up and down a moment more, and twisted, his covers clamping shut tight.

“Well, see, I also do not have legs,” he began again, “or a body at all. I doubt dancing with me would be any fun. Really.”

Nier just stared at him, and then nodded, reflecting on something.

“Then why’d you learn?” he asked.

The question petrified Weiss, so much that he was frozen in the air.

He was loathe to answer, and when he did, the words were strangely quiet, “…silly dreams.”

“Silly dreams?” Nier repeated, incredulous.

“Well, I mean, I am very smart,” Weiss started, “and if I one day did acquire a body… through some spell or such… I thought I would—maybe we could—perhaps… ah,” Weiss stifled, “I’ve scanned too many books, you know. Too many useless things. It’s—it’s needless…”

Nier shook his head. “Weiss? I’ve kissed you, and you sure as hell don’t have lips.”

Weiss really couldn’t worm his way out of this, could he?

And that made him happy, on some level.

He came forward, wordlessly, and offered his hands to Nier.

“I must confess, despite my research, I have no idea what I’m doing,” he mentioned under his breath.

Did they ever?

“Well, I’m pretty sure the first step is moving to the beat,” Nier suggested, beginning to sway.

“Yes. That’s… that’s a good start.”

Weiss was stiff, claws digging into Nier’s hands.

“Relaxing is a good idea too,” Nier prompted.

“Oh,” Weiss loosened his claws, healing the scratches on Nier’s skin without a second thought.

Even if it that had been probably quite painful, Nier’s features were softer as he looked upon Weiss.

All the information Weiss had summoned to the forefront of his text block were scattered like paper in the wind.

“L-let’s begin,” Weiss said, trying to drum up his knowledge, avoiding eye contact.

Eventually he found his notes, babbling on about timing, differing styles, and even the damn history of the art form since he couldn’t stop his mouth from nervously running.

Every time Weiss managed to cobble together enough to get a gist of the dance maneuver, Nier did it flawlessly.

“Very good, very good!” the book practically cheered him on, captivated by how he moved.

Nier started to rearrange things, pulling Weiss around in calculated, sweeping movements.

This was the panache Weiss craved! He forgot his lack of physicality, satisfied to be pulled along and to see the man perform with something approaching _grace_.

The uncanny precision excited Weiss at first. He attributed it to Nier’s exceptional combat abilities, which oft depended on his footwork.

But as Weiss tried to teach him the finer points, it became excruciatingly obvious Nier knew _exactly_ what he was doing.

He had danced before.

“Would you quit making a fool of me?!” Weiss hissed, clenching the hand Nier had presently pressed to his chest.

“Hm?” Nier seemed unconcerned, though he slowed down considerably. “How? You’re having a great time.”

“You know how to dance!” Weiss accused him, “better than I do!”

“What? Not necessarily,” Nier countered, trying to play stupid, “I thought maybe I could learn a thing or two.”

“Don’t make me laugh…” Weiss said derisively.

“I like your laugh.”

How charming! How dare he?! Weiss couldn’t make a witty comeback at all!

So, he kissed him.

Or rather, he pushed his cover into Nier’s face, and Nier did the rest.

Weiss got a hold of himself and pulled back.

“Oh. That was a bit fast…” Weiss apologized. He couldn’t imagine hitting one’s mouth bones on metal was all too pleasant.

“Nah. You’re just right,” Nier’s voice was low as he leaned forward himself and kissed the topmost of his decorations. He continued, working down the patterns. Finally, Nier pulled away, searching the Grimoire, heart heavy.

This was all too much for Weiss. He was going to lose it.

His hands tightened around Nier’s before evaporating as he buried himself in Nier’s chest, clinging onto him with a force unseen.

The man paused only a moment, slowly drawing his hands around the book to hold him.

Nier continued to sway to the faraway tune.

A ragged sound came from the book, and Nier curled inward, trying to envelope him.

“Oh, _I hate this_ ,” Weiss spoke low.

Worry spread through Nier as he waited for something more, a clarification.

_Hated what…?_

A peculiar weakness infiltrated his voice, “all these… pleasant lies… about something we all can’t have.”

Nier’s throat tightened.

_We all…_

He didn’t mean just between Nier and himself, he also meant…

Nier’s thoughts turned to the gate, to what rested just outside. He understood what the book was saying.

All this celebration, but not for them.

Not for _them_.

Nier swallowed, hard, petting Weiss’ back cover absently. He ran his fingers over the ridges, trying not to think.

He no longer rocked to the music. He didn’t want to hear it anymore.

He didn’t want to be there anymore.

Weiss drew away, breaking the embrace, a sudden urgency in his tone, “we should check on the kids…”

“Kids…?” It took Nier a moment to register that odd choice of word.

“Er, ah… Kainé and Emil,” Weiss corrected himself, a little embarrassed, “the hussy and the lad.”

Nier appreciated that slip up more than the book could know.

“Yeah, good idea.”

No one was out who had a key to operate the gate by this point, so Nier and Weiss had to work together to push open the ornery oaken gates. After a good few heaves, it was no use.

They decided the only proper course of action was to use magic. Lots of magic.

Outside, Emil was attempting to wind the bandages around Kainé’s shade arm tighter. They heard the doors begin to creak, and turned back, silent as they watched.

Claws of dark and ruby laced through the gap in the door, and slowly pulled, the grand conjure wedging the gate open a breath so that Nier could shimmy out.

Weiss followed suit, the two peering at their friends before approaching. Kainé and Emil stared curiously, as if this were well unexpected.

Kainé hid her hands in fists, but couldn’t obscure her pale fingers, each ruddy with bloody rashes.

"Shades?" Nier's inquiry was needless. The smell of rot was answer enough.

Blood was mingling with the grass around.

Kainé nodded, coughing. She lifted her arm up to her mouth—her shade arm—to catch the cough. The bandages hung loosely around the limb, as if they had been stretched out from within.

"Oh dear… Take this," Weiss hastily supplied Emil with some medicine from his pages.

“Thanks.” Emil accepted, grateful.

With that cheerful forcefulness he possessed, the boy forced Kainé to unclench her fists and rubbed the herbal solution into her hands.

Nier merely observed.

She scoffed, playing the part of offense, though the act was not so perfect this time around.

After Emil and Weiss had her hands more properly wrapped, Kainé rested motionlessly, up against the old stony ruins like before.

There was a lot on her mind, Nier could tell. For once, he could empathize with that.

He didn't intend to add to the mess, instead taking a seat beside her without a word. He rested his back against the same stones, offering her a nod of acknowledgment.

Kainé’s lips curled to straight from a scowl, maybe it would’ve been a smile if times had been different.

The two were somewhere approaching tranquil in this silence as they watched Emil and Weiss work together.

"What do you mean there's _magic all over_ ,” Emil asked Weiss as he poked around, sniffing, if that was a thing Grimoires could do. “I don't see any."

"Sight can become a crutch. _Listen_ ,” Weiss implored.

Emil held a moment, bobbing in the air. His orb of a face rotated.

"...oh."

“Would you go first?” Weiss compelled.

Emil took his staff and raised it a measure. A blue glow began to ebb from it. The blood that smeared the blades of grass encircling dissolved into particles of light, swirling into the head of the staff and through the shaft. His bones glowed a touch as he absorbed this light.

"Excellent!" Weiss praised him.

Kainé’s expression had changed, and maybe her thoughts too. There was something kinder, perhaps, going through her mind now.

That made Nier happy.

She shifted, noticing Nier smiling at her.

“You better wipe that shit-eating grin off your face,” she warned.

Nier did, completely torn from the moment.

However, Kainé added a snicker after that, her anger whisked away.

“Ew, that’s SO gross, Weiss,” Emil commented as the book consumed the rest of the blood around. “I can’t eat it raw…”

Weiss groused, “can a Grimoire not enjoy a meal in peace?!”

Kainé’s hopeless look was all but gone.

Nier figured his was too.

He should have just stayed outside.

After he and Weiss finished up, Emil floated over and gave Nier a bony, awkward hug. He hugged Weiss too, the book allowing such breaches of respect more freely these days.

“Goodnight,” the boy said to them.

“Goodnight, Emil,” Nier said.

“…unless you need me to keep watch,” Emil took pause, ever considerate.

“Nah, I got it,” Nier told him, “you guys were busy.”

“Oh, thanks. I’m so sleepy… guess I kinda ate too much,” Emil thought aloud, and then asked, “talk tomorrow?”

“Sure thing.”

Emil bobbed happily, floating over to his set of blankets… which he dragged over toward Nier and Kainé. He settled down in a lump beside them, snuggling in. Emil was more of a head atop a pile of fabric than ever before.

“Goodnight, Kainé!” he chimed from within the coils of blanket.

“…’night,” her voice was lacking its edge, low and tired.

Before long, Nier could hear the soft sounds as Emil drifted deep into sleep. He started to creep up like a blob onto Kainé’s side, but she didn’t seem to mind, instead absently brushing the back of his smooth head.

She blinked her eyes heavily, fighting to keep them open.

Emil started snoring softly, like any other human. He sounded just like—

Something slumped into Nier’s side, startling him.

_Kainé..._

She’d finally passed out from her fight.

Nier adjusted himself gingerly, trying not to disturb her. As he did, a blanket glided over to them, pulled by dark magic. It settled upon their forms, soft as a feather.

Nier looked upon Weiss gratefully. “…goodnight.”

The Grimoire responded by bumping his cover into Nier’s temple. Another kiss, perhaps.

Weiss summoned his staple pillow of a bed from his pages, offering it to Nier.

“No, you take—” before he could finish, Weiss had already stuffed it behind his head.

Weiss alighted in his lap, nestling between the folds of the blanket and Nier himself.

“Alright…” Nier gave up, accepting his place at the core of the pile.

He was stuck there for the night, and that was just as well. It was just going to be hard to stay awake when everything was so cozy.

Nier exhaled, his body more relaxed than he had realized.

He dozed in peace outside the gates, amongst his friends, forgetting entirely that he had left the gate narrowly open.


End file.
